


Sunday Deals

by giantessmess



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:58:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giantessmess/pseuds/giantessmess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane is trying to figure out what dull or terrifying thing Maura is planning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Deals

Jane was getting really good at figuring out when to duck for cover—cover being the safety of her own apartment rather than the well-worn groove she’d made in Maura’s expensive couch. For instance, this was a Sunday afternoon, the football game blasting through Maura’s apartment. No Ma. No Frankie. And no Tommy, thank you Jesus. She and Maura were both miraculously off work. Later there’d be pie and sex, hopefully not in that order. But then Maura had come back from the beer run with a familiar wide-eyed glaze to her expression. You know one—it made her seem hopped up on too much caffeine. Warning sign.

‘Hey, thanks,’ Jane said, taking the beer. ‘Why’d you take so long?’ She looked up with a sideways glance through her hair.

‘Ok, you will not believe this,’ Maura said. But it was how she said it, like she was launching into something epic, with subtitles and an appendix you could flick through for referenced journal articles. Jane tried to smile behind the first swallow of beer.

‘Yeah? What?’

Could be that Maura was planning some new torture in the form of an Art opening? Or maybe some kind of classical orchestra where Jane would have to dress up in itchy formal wear and sit still in a seat that put your butt to sleep, needing to pee for an hour. Or, more simply, it could just be the broad chipmunk grin Maura got when she scored a wine that had a long explanation behind it. Like it was made in some blah blah province in the year nineteen-hubbada-whatever by blind monks, who were also famous for weaving giant rugs.

‘I ran into Tommy at the store.’

At this, Jane let out the breath she’d been holding.

‘So? You see him all the time. You saw him last week.’

‘I just thought I’d mention it. He was going to watch the game in some lonely bar with strangers.’

‘No,’ Jane said. ‘You did not invite my brother over. We had a deal.’

‘Did we?’

‘Yeah we did, Maura. You know we did.’

‘I’m trying to remember this deal and I’m drawing a blank.’

Jane sighed and placed the bottle of beer carefully, but not without irritation, on the coffee table. It only made a tiny click.

‘It’s our Sunday. Ours. Why go to the whole effort of sending Ma off to a winery if you’re just gonna open your doors to every random person you run into?’

‘Tommy isn’t just anyone,’ Maura huffed. ‘Honestly. And you make it sound like some sort of romantic date. I mean, while I appreciate the raw masculine vigor of competitive sports…’

‘Ugh, God.’

‘It’s hardly on my list of wildly exciting Sunday activities. Now, maybe a lecture series or a performance of Don Quioxte.’

‘It was a plan. We made it.’

‘I’m sorry, that wasn’t the impression I got.’

‘Great,’ Jane sat back down and stared at the game, but it came across flatter now. Like the players were as half-hearted about it as she was. ’When is he coming over then?’

‘Did you and Tommy have an argument? Is that the problem?’

‘No,’ Jane rolled her eyes to herself. ‘No, alright? Just forget it.’

‘Because regardless of what he’s done this time, I’m sure if you practice good communication with him for once instead of simply punishing him…’

‘Really, Maura? You always take his side,’ she shook her head. ‘Why am I even doing this? It’s got nothing to do with Tommy.’

Maura didn’t seem to be listening. She made her way back to the kitchen and called back behind her.

‘He’s going to be here soon, so make some room on the couch.’

‘God.’

‘You know, if you’re really serious about this...’

‘About what?’

‘About today. About it being just the two of us.’

‘I am, Maura. That’s what I was trying to say. Pretty clearly too, I might add.’

‘Well,’ Maura started. Jane watched her as she opened a bottle of wine with a quick pop. She poured herself a glass. ‘I was thinking. We could just leave Tommy to himself.’

‘Ew, while he’s sitting in your living room? No, ok. I draw the line there. I do not want to listen to my brother yelling at the instant replay while we’re going at it.’

‘No, Jane. That’s not what I meant.’

‘What did you mean?’

Maura sipped her glass thoughtfully.

‘We could go somewhere. Tommy can watch the game by himself.’

Jane had a strange feeling about this. Maybe it was because Maura had that look on her face, that imperceptible happy one that she’d seen when Maura swanned into the house with the beer.

‘Ok. What did you have in mind?’

‘Well, actually, there is a performance of Don Quixote I was considering,’ Maura said, the sly look on her face spreading.

‘Oh, is there?’

‘The casting for tonight is pretty spectacular. The reviews for this season have been very encouraging, I have to say.’

Jane ran a hand over her face. She smiled, despite herself.

‘Is Tommy really coming over?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Maura said, looking pleased with herself. ‘He’ll be about ten minutes, from my count.’

Jane let out a sigh. She reached for the remote and braced herself for the feeling of disappointment as she flicked the TV off. Surprisingly, it didn’t come.

‘Ok,’ she said. She held up her hand to quiet Maura before she started chirping on about training routines of ballet dancers in the Himalayas. ‘But I am not wearing anything pink, I am not wearing heels. And you’re taking me somewhere good for dinner. Somewhere that has my beer.’

Maura smiled.

‘That, I believe, is a deal.’


End file.
